Monday January 3rd, 2011

The exercise:

Today we'll write about: the bedroom.

I think all of our stuff is finally down from the house now. Until we get some new bookshelves the guest room is going to be box central.


This was our first look at what was to become our sleeping quarters:

I don't even want to know what those stains on the floor are about. On the plus side: free primer! And, uh, the ladder came in handy too. I don't remember if we used the sheet of wood against the wall for anything or not. It might be a part of the subfloor now.

This was the almost finished product, before we moved in:

Kat had just put the final coat of paint on the baseboards, so that's why the painter's tape is still on the floor. Here's a look at the ceiling:

What's new: the floor, the baseboards, the baseboard heater, the light fixture, the boards on the ceiling (more on that when we get to the living room), the paint on the walls, and the window.

What's old: um... the walls underneath the paint?

What's left to do: the final baseboard on the wall to the right of the window, and putting up a curtain rod. So not very much.

This is the view from our window:

Yes, the house on the left is where we were for the last six months. Shortest move I've ever made, that's for sure. Also: definitely the hardest I've ever had to work to make it happen.


Greg said...

It's another fantastic transformation, though it feels slightly less amazing than the bathroom -- I think because the after pictures are of an empty room this time. I do like both the floor and the ceiling though, and the view from the window is superb. I've never lived anywhere quite as isolated as the houses in the view though!

The bedroom
There was a light breeze tugging at the curtain because the nurse had left the window slightly ajar, but it didn't bother the pyjama-clad man in the bed. This was a penthouse private bedroom in the hospital he'd built with money he'd made the hard way -- by hard work. There was a bookshelf next to the door that contained his favourite novels, his autobiography, and a selection of DVDs, and the bathroom was en suite. Next to the bed was a marble-inlaid chess set, and playing Black was Death.
"Mate in three," said the pyjama-clad man as he moved a pawn forward. There was silence as Death contemplated the board, then with one long, articulated finger bone he pushed his King over.
The man reclined on his pillows, enjoying the play of light on the ceiling cast by the trees outside, and Death walked out of the bedroom, walking straight through the wall.
On the other side of the wall he looked at Pestilence and Famine who were sitting on the floors, their knees up by the faces and their hands crossed over their ankles like schoolchildren.
"Your turn," Death said in a whisper like the ossification of hope. "Make sure he never leaves that room."

Zhongming said...

Marc – Wow, what a total reformation! I like the views outside your window; it makes you feel closer to the nature! :)

Greg – ah, your piece reminds me that I haven’t played chess for a long time. :)


The Bedroom (Continuation from the snowy woods)

Memo of day nine, 8.05am Thursday, 28th Jan 2000.

Damn, I can’t get it out of my head! I must have had a little too much yesterday. I’m sorry if I did say something weird, honey.

The fears in me arise again…

Whenever I hear sounds of thunder it brings me back to the snowy woods where I’m on the brink of death biting my teeth in the freezing and wounded condition. This brings me back to where I picked up that letter. I wonder if I should ever head back to save the man who has been trapped in there for years.

Again, my conscience wouldn’t permit me if I didn’t. I sat on the floor of the bedroom, back straighten, leg crossed and my eyes fully focused on the round transparent crystal ball. Within minutes of full concentration I entered a scene during my childhood.

In the scene, I was playing hide-and-seek with my classmate Marley. It was my turn to do a countdown of one hundred while facing the other side of the wall. Marley went on and hide herself somewhere which supposed to be rather predicable for me since I’m so used to her style of hiding. Usually I should get to her within a minute or two but it all went wrong… I couldn’t find her anywhere in the house. Not in bedrooms, not in bathrooms, not in the backyard and not in anywhere which I could find her. Half an hour went pass follow by an hour and on and on. It reached the point where I find myself in total dismay that I could no longer sense that Marley is still in the house. So I run out of the house and scream for help but I know that there’s nobody out there. Eventually I had to give up and look for her beyond the house.

The good thing is that after a few days of searching she was found in the secret hideout of her own house, a hidden basement. She was trapped inside for two days without food. It was pure luck that I broke a vase in the entrance her living room which eventually opens up the path to the hidden hideout.

Winnie’s entering of my bedroom brought me back to my senses as I’m starting to feel guilty about not lending a hand to Ronnie, the man who left a letter of clues and hints behind…

morganna said...

Sleeping place,
Loving place,
Sanctuary, haven
Filled with laundry baskets and love
This bedroom is more than walls for a bed.

Heather said...

"You know, there are better ways to phrase it!?" she said as she shied away from him.

"What do you mean?" There was no alarm in his voice. No teasing or mocking, but Ella knew Eric was bothered by what she had said. She had stopped him in his tracks.

"I mean... well, you could just be more romantic or even passionate about it. "Come on baby, let's go to the bedroom" was cute the first and second time, but not anymore."

Ella finished, the weight of the statement off her conscious and the knew awkwardness settling on it.

summerfield said...

“Thank God for Fabreze!” she mutters while she sprays the bare mattress. The right side slightly sinks in, Jacques' spot during the last three years. Not a problem, she would just have to turn it over and the mattress will go back to its form even though it might take a few weeks. She turns on the electric fan and directed the air towards the mattress. She fetches from the linen closet the new bed pad she has bought and the new sheets that she wants to use. The new blue and white linen sheets that match the new curtains she has installed on the window. Already, she has thought of a name for the bedroom: the blue willow room. It's not her bedroom, it's THE blue willow room.

She lightly pats the top of the mattress with the palm of her hands to make sure it is dry when she hears a knock on the door. She clucks her tongue, annoyed at this intrusion. She walks out of the bedroom, er, the blue willow room, thinking where she would position the three-foot floor vase. She opens the door.

“Hiya!” It is Jacques.

“Oh, it’s you.” Jacques pushes the door and enters.

“Kinda hard to get rid of me when I’m just across the hall from you, n’est-ce pas?” he teases her.

“What do you want now?” she asks, not really hiding her annoyance.

“Have you got milk? I need some for my tea.”

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, I think I started out with the most striking room. That's why I'm saving the kitchen for last, as I think it's up there as well.

Good to see Death making another appearance with the boys. Ossification is a great word, I remember writing it down a while back with the intention of using it. Maybe one day.

Zhongming - I hope our narrator goes looking for Ronnie! :)

Morganna - that's a wonderful final line. Nicely done.

Heather - haha, I could picture that terribly awkward scene perfectly :)

Summerfield - ugh, speaking of awkward. Right across the hall? Painful.